For me, the scariest part of a rollercoaster is when the cart is slowly being dragged up the first hill. I'm afraid of heights and as I look around (down!) I am convinced that there is some strong magnetic force calling me, pulling me to the ground. I am convinced I am going to fall. Once the ride starts whizzing down and around the track, I can enjoy it even if it's scary. But that first uphill climb is where I really wish I could get off.
Life is the same way for me. Yesterday I was feeling really down and that was a starting point. You just can't stay down unless you resign yourself to living in the depths of despair, as Anne Shirley would put it. So wanting to feel better and happy was the first step out of the gloom for me. Once I had finished dwelling on how sick, broke, fat and depressed I am, I got to the point where I kicked myself in the arse and said, "Snap out of it! Do something about it!" But even that is only half the battle. Poverty is not something you can just shake off. You have to have education, experience, a good resumé and someone willing to give you employment. Planets have to be properly aligned.
Luckily for me in this month of March 2012, I do have a contract to create lesson plans. So one thing I could do (that I could finally do today, but was emotionally and therefor physically unable to do yesterday!) was sit down in front of the laptop my sister has generously given me and start working on the course. That is a huge step and I am well into it now. So, for the time being at least, it looks like I will be able to make rent on the 1st without having to dip into credit.
The other thing that is hard to deal with is my depression. That isn't something you can just shake off either. There is no magic wand that can change the circumstances of a person's life to make everything just peachy. Still, I know that how we feel emotionally is related to how well we take care of ourselves. My physical health isn't that great either and that is something I have to do something about. I know I have to drink plenty of water and eat well, so why do I always forget to drink water? And WHY do I eat fatty, salty, unhealthy foods? (Not to mention my sweet tooth!) Well, I haven't come up with a solution yet, but I have decided that I have to come up with a system that will help me remember all the things I usually forget when it comes to my health. 'Cause writing down everything I eat and how much water I drink is not a good system. The minute I eat something unhealthy, I either stop writing things down or tear out the page and start all over. It just doesn't work.
So my goal is to come up with something that will help me remember to take good care of my body. I am in desperate need of it, but it has to be something simple and something that is cheap. If I could afford to sign up for Minçavie, I would do it, but I can't afford to. (Minçavie is a program, like Weight Watchers, that helped me lose weight in 1999, before I got pregnant for the first time. It was great, but unfortunately I didn't stick with it once I had the baby. I still more or less remember how it worked, but I have lost all my recipes and portion lists and stuff.)
So this is my assignment for tomorrow: to create a "personal health plan." It seems daunting, but I know that one can do anything if one only puts one's mind to it. We'll see what I come up with. Right now, I equate the task to learning how to climb a mountain!
Tuesday, 13 March 2012
Monday, 12 March 2012
Bad News All Around
I promised myself I would try not to use this blog to bitch and whine too much, but at the moment I feel like I have to get all of this out or I will be completely useless today. And everyday.
This morning was a pretty tough one, to say the least. First Son had asked me to wake him at five so he could prepare his lunch bag. This of course was silly, and I told him so, but I said I would wake him at six, when I got up to make the lunches. He agreed. Last night. This morning at six, though, which of course was more like five anyway due to the spring time change, he couldn't get up, so I told him never mind, I would wake him at seven and I would make the lunches myself, which I did. First Son went back to sleep. At seven, though, I could only get Daughter and Second Son out of bed. First Son stubbornly refused. He was angry that I hadn't insisted on him getting up at six, and he just wouldn't get up.
Luckily, Second Son and Daughter ate their breakfast nicely and got ready for school, but waiting on First Son was making us all late. So in the end I told First Son that he would have to get up, eat, and walk to school, because I wasn't going to make the other two late because of him. I went out to scrape the frost off the car and we got ready to leave. Meanwhile, First Son finally got out of bed, screaming in a really ugly, angry voice for us to wait for him, which we did for a while, but I saw that my daughter was going to be late for school if we didn't leave right then. So I told Second Son to take his lunch box and walk to school. He was already late himself, so he would have to go through the office and get a pass from the secretary.
The school is only one block away and there is one street to cross. Of course by then the crossing guards weren't there any more, but it is an easy street to cross as there are four-way stop signs. Still, I felt so bad to make him walk alone at six years of age! Granted, I watched him go and saw him cross just as I turned the car out onto the large road that we live behind, which he thankfully didn't have to cross. First Son was about a hundred meters behind him, stomping angrily toward school. When he was putting his boots on I gave him two snacks to put in his bag, and an extra one to eat quickly since he didn't have breakfast. But he left them there, so he was not only late, but he went to school with an empty stomach. I felt so deflated. Like a really bad mother.
Luckily, we made it to Daughter's school to drop her off just as the bell rang and the kids were getting in line, so she wasn't late. Alas, unfortunately, my troubles didn't end there. Next, I went to the bank to deposit a check that I had gotten for creating a course outline for an organization that offers on-line courses to adults. Driving towards the bank, I was pulled over by a cop! Argh! I was so distracted by the radio (an awful story about an American Soldier who had left his base in Afghanistan and snuck into several houses to open fire on the residents, killing many, including mostly children!) that I didn't realize I had entered a school zone. I thought I was still in a 50 zone, so I doing more than 30 km/h. I was doing 49, which is obviously an indication that I wasn't intentionally speeding since I wasn't even doing the 50 that I thought was permitted, but the fact remains that I didn't notice the sign. I was so upset I started crying. Honestly, how bad can life get?
I have been sick and unable to work full-time since October 2010. I was on full sick-leave for a long time, which means I was basically living off credit cards. The insurance payments were laughably low. When EI ran out I had to turn to the government for last-resort help. Needless to say, it was pretty hard living off 600 dollars a month. My rent alone is $600! In November of last year, I got a job offer for my dream job: to become a French Language Evaluator for the federal government. I had 62 thousand dollars a year dangling in front of me. I just had to pass a four-week training period and the job was mine. I was still pretty sick, very weak and generally pretty tired, but how could I pass up this opportunity? Financially, I couldn't afford to. So I kept my mouth shut about being on sick leave and went for it. I dove in full-time. Big mistake. I was so exhausted that I couldn't concentrate. The pressure was on, the stress was up, and I made too many mistakes. I didn't pass the training and ended up losing the job. I can't remember the last time I was so devastated. So now I am back trying to get some freelancing contracts like the one I am working on now. I was so happy to be getting a respectable paycheck, and now I have to go wasting part of it on a huge speeding fine.
So basically this day has me feeling pretty inadequate in all ways imaginable. I feel like a bad mom. I feel like I can't provide for my family, and now I am just plain afraid to drive. What if in my distraction I make an even more serious mistake? What if I hit a cat or worse, a child? I had planned to spend this morning working on the lesson plans to go with the course outline, which has thankfully been accepted. But I spent a good 45 minutes just sitting there in the car crying, not feeling up to even driving home, let alone detouring still toward the bank. I have until March 31st to submit the four Modules of the course I have to create, and I just don't feel up to working on it. My mind's a mess. This is definitely one of those times when the rollercoaster of life is letting me down. I am plummeting.
This morning was a pretty tough one, to say the least. First Son had asked me to wake him at five so he could prepare his lunch bag. This of course was silly, and I told him so, but I said I would wake him at six, when I got up to make the lunches. He agreed. Last night. This morning at six, though, which of course was more like five anyway due to the spring time change, he couldn't get up, so I told him never mind, I would wake him at seven and I would make the lunches myself, which I did. First Son went back to sleep. At seven, though, I could only get Daughter and Second Son out of bed. First Son stubbornly refused. He was angry that I hadn't insisted on him getting up at six, and he just wouldn't get up.
Luckily, Second Son and Daughter ate their breakfast nicely and got ready for school, but waiting on First Son was making us all late. So in the end I told First Son that he would have to get up, eat, and walk to school, because I wasn't going to make the other two late because of him. I went out to scrape the frost off the car and we got ready to leave. Meanwhile, First Son finally got out of bed, screaming in a really ugly, angry voice for us to wait for him, which we did for a while, but I saw that my daughter was going to be late for school if we didn't leave right then. So I told Second Son to take his lunch box and walk to school. He was already late himself, so he would have to go through the office and get a pass from the secretary.
The school is only one block away and there is one street to cross. Of course by then the crossing guards weren't there any more, but it is an easy street to cross as there are four-way stop signs. Still, I felt so bad to make him walk alone at six years of age! Granted, I watched him go and saw him cross just as I turned the car out onto the large road that we live behind, which he thankfully didn't have to cross. First Son was about a hundred meters behind him, stomping angrily toward school. When he was putting his boots on I gave him two snacks to put in his bag, and an extra one to eat quickly since he didn't have breakfast. But he left them there, so he was not only late, but he went to school with an empty stomach. I felt so deflated. Like a really bad mother.
Luckily, we made it to Daughter's school to drop her off just as the bell rang and the kids were getting in line, so she wasn't late. Alas, unfortunately, my troubles didn't end there. Next, I went to the bank to deposit a check that I had gotten for creating a course outline for an organization that offers on-line courses to adults. Driving towards the bank, I was pulled over by a cop! Argh! I was so distracted by the radio (an awful story about an American Soldier who had left his base in Afghanistan and snuck into several houses to open fire on the residents, killing many, including mostly children!) that I didn't realize I had entered a school zone. I thought I was still in a 50 zone, so I doing more than 30 km/h. I was doing 49, which is obviously an indication that I wasn't intentionally speeding since I wasn't even doing the 50 that I thought was permitted, but the fact remains that I didn't notice the sign. I was so upset I started crying. Honestly, how bad can life get?
I have been sick and unable to work full-time since October 2010. I was on full sick-leave for a long time, which means I was basically living off credit cards. The insurance payments were laughably low. When EI ran out I had to turn to the government for last-resort help. Needless to say, it was pretty hard living off 600 dollars a month. My rent alone is $600! In November of last year, I got a job offer for my dream job: to become a French Language Evaluator for the federal government. I had 62 thousand dollars a year dangling in front of me. I just had to pass a four-week training period and the job was mine. I was still pretty sick, very weak and generally pretty tired, but how could I pass up this opportunity? Financially, I couldn't afford to. So I kept my mouth shut about being on sick leave and went for it. I dove in full-time. Big mistake. I was so exhausted that I couldn't concentrate. The pressure was on, the stress was up, and I made too many mistakes. I didn't pass the training and ended up losing the job. I can't remember the last time I was so devastated. So now I am back trying to get some freelancing contracts like the one I am working on now. I was so happy to be getting a respectable paycheck, and now I have to go wasting part of it on a huge speeding fine.
So basically this day has me feeling pretty inadequate in all ways imaginable. I feel like a bad mom. I feel like I can't provide for my family, and now I am just plain afraid to drive. What if in my distraction I make an even more serious mistake? What if I hit a cat or worse, a child? I had planned to spend this morning working on the lesson plans to go with the course outline, which has thankfully been accepted. But I spent a good 45 minutes just sitting there in the car crying, not feeling up to even driving home, let alone detouring still toward the bank. I have until March 31st to submit the four Modules of the course I have to create, and I just don't feel up to working on it. My mind's a mess. This is definitely one of those times when the rollercoaster of life is letting me down. I am plummeting.
Friday, 9 March 2012
Magic
Yesterday when I picked him up, my six-year-old son's first words were, "I saw a real princess today!" That of course made me smile. I get such a kick out of him and his view of the world! Often, when he is watching a DVD, he will turn to me and very seriously say, "That can't happen. They did that with a computer just for the film." This is usually at the scarier parts, so I recognize that he is reassuring himself. But otherwise, he is perfectly willing to believe what he sees. Like yesterday, when they were taken to see a play, he saw a real princess.
I think it is so important for children to believe in magic, the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny and, in my family's case, God. It is a real challenge every year to get the Christmas tree up and the presents under it without the children realizing that it was all my doing. (My daughter has caught on, but she has agreed to keep the magic alive for her two little brothers.) Our tradition holds that it isn't Santa who brings the presents. It is the Baby Jesus who brings them as symbols of his gift of Love. (Saint Nicholas comes a little earlier, on December 6th, to put chocolates and oranges in their boots.)
Nowadays, when children have questions, such as about where babies come from, we tend to pull a book off the shelf and explain human anatomy to them, so that we are honest with them, as modern parents should be. I don't quite agree with this. I think there is great value in believing in miracles. Children are happy to get a toonie for their teeth, or to clean their boots and put them in the window for Saint Nicholas. It is a way for them to keep the wonder about the world that increasingly is too informative and makes them grow up too soon.
Don't get me wrong. I am all about explaining photosynthesis to children when we are hiking in the woods. I explain about not picking the wildflowers in a park because they are protected. I talk to them about not littering, about pollution and conservation. But I know they also get a kick out of pretending that the trees that grow in perfect rows are bewitched soldiers, of that elves live in the hollows of trees. It develops their imagination to play this way, and it also helps them be brave, and to move into situations where they might imagine that it would be scary, but they move forward nonetheless. My daughter was afraid of the Easter Bunny for years. She would come get me before going out into the living room to see if there was an Easter basket there for her. I would accompany her and, over the years, she eventually started walking in front of me instead of behind. Finally, she was able to go look on her own. I can see this self-assurance in her today, and wonder if it isn't thanks to the Easter Bunny. :o)
I think it is so important for children to believe in magic, the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny and, in my family's case, God. It is a real challenge every year to get the Christmas tree up and the presents under it without the children realizing that it was all my doing. (My daughter has caught on, but she has agreed to keep the magic alive for her two little brothers.) Our tradition holds that it isn't Santa who brings the presents. It is the Baby Jesus who brings them as symbols of his gift of Love. (Saint Nicholas comes a little earlier, on December 6th, to put chocolates and oranges in their boots.)
Nowadays, when children have questions, such as about where babies come from, we tend to pull a book off the shelf and explain human anatomy to them, so that we are honest with them, as modern parents should be. I don't quite agree with this. I think there is great value in believing in miracles. Children are happy to get a toonie for their teeth, or to clean their boots and put them in the window for Saint Nicholas. It is a way for them to keep the wonder about the world that increasingly is too informative and makes them grow up too soon.
Don't get me wrong. I am all about explaining photosynthesis to children when we are hiking in the woods. I explain about not picking the wildflowers in a park because they are protected. I talk to them about not littering, about pollution and conservation. But I know they also get a kick out of pretending that the trees that grow in perfect rows are bewitched soldiers, of that elves live in the hollows of trees. It develops their imagination to play this way, and it also helps them be brave, and to move into situations where they might imagine that it would be scary, but they move forward nonetheless. My daughter was afraid of the Easter Bunny for years. She would come get me before going out into the living room to see if there was an Easter basket there for her. I would accompany her and, over the years, she eventually started walking in front of me instead of behind. Finally, she was able to go look on her own. I can see this self-assurance in her today, and wonder if it isn't thanks to the Easter Bunny. :o)
Wednesday, 7 March 2012
Recipe for Happiness
I played hooky yesterday. I admit it. I was so engrossed in the book I was reading I just didn't think I could put it down without first finishing it. In the end, I fell asleep before the end and I didn't get to blog.
I don't feel a bit guilty because I know how important it is to have a balanced life. I'm not saying mine is perfectly balanced, but that is what I strive for. I like to read. Make that LOVE to read. It is my passion, and part of the secret recipe for happiness is that you have to have something to be passionate about. It can be anything. Some people are passionate about art, insects or cake. For some it is a lifelong passion. Others jump from one thing to another. Some people concentrate all their energies on one specific thing. Others are busy with all sorts of interests. It doesn't matter. What counts is that you have something to be passionate about, something to get you off the couch and out the door, or at least out of bed. Something you want to pursue. Motivation to live.
I am the kind of person to jump from one thing to another. I have been into a lot of things from scuba diving to scrapbooking to yoga. I do also have interests that have been pretty constant since childhood. I am passionate about my children, and I always have loved children. I waited 23 years just to get pregnant. I couldn't wait! I am also passionate about animals. I believe we were put on this earth to take care of them, both the wild and the domestic. I have an affectionate cat who sleeps with me and a cute bunny to entertain me by wiggling his little white nose. :o)
Music is also a passion of mine, especially live music, and I have had the same favorite band, Blue Rodeo, since grade six. I remember when I was young, we were constantly singing in the car. Our parents, especially our dad, taught us so many Hungarian folk songs, and when we came to Canada we would sing along with Bryan Adams on the radio, even though we didn't understand a word of the lyrics. I wish I could make music but I can't even sing well. The only thing musical about me are my ears.
Another thing that I have always loved is writing, hence the blog. :o) It goes hand-in-hand with reading and I do a lot of that. I always have. I remember lying on my bed in grade one, before we came to Canada, reading Little House in the Big Woods in Hungarian. A chapter book in grade one! Later, when I FINALLY got my own room in grade six, I would pick a book and read 'till all hours of the night, and complain if someone woke me up before noon. Actually, I think I did that even before I got my own room, when I shared with my sister. I remember we had a bunk bed... but now I am getting sidetracked!
Last night I must have read until eleven or so, but at that point I could hardly keep my eyes open, so I called it a day. With three children, I can't afford to stay up all night reading because I do have to be functional in the morning to get everyone out the door in time. But I do read, in moderate amounts, and I enjoy it immensely. I am surprised (and disappointed, to tell the truth) that my daughter says she doesn't like reading. She does read, though. She takes so many books out of the library, but she says it is the subjects that interest her, not the reading. She is into very strange subjects too, like 9/11 and the Titanic. She also reads a lot about Islam, go figure.
I do try to read in front of my children, to be a good model. Unfortunately, that often backfires because it is perceived as being selfish and ignoring the children. That saddens me. I do so look forward to the day when we can all sit on a dock by a quiet lake and read together. We'll see... In the meantime, my boys do appreciate it when I read to them at bedtime, so that's something.
But this post isn't about parenting skills. It is about having something to be passionate about. Something to inspire you, something to pursue. I truly believe that for a person to be happy, they have to have things that interest them. So think about it. What are you passionate about?
I don't feel a bit guilty because I know how important it is to have a balanced life. I'm not saying mine is perfectly balanced, but that is what I strive for. I like to read. Make that LOVE to read. It is my passion, and part of the secret recipe for happiness is that you have to have something to be passionate about. It can be anything. Some people are passionate about art, insects or cake. For some it is a lifelong passion. Others jump from one thing to another. Some people concentrate all their energies on one specific thing. Others are busy with all sorts of interests. It doesn't matter. What counts is that you have something to be passionate about, something to get you off the couch and out the door, or at least out of bed. Something you want to pursue. Motivation to live.
I am the kind of person to jump from one thing to another. I have been into a lot of things from scuba diving to scrapbooking to yoga. I do also have interests that have been pretty constant since childhood. I am passionate about my children, and I always have loved children. I waited 23 years just to get pregnant. I couldn't wait! I am also passionate about animals. I believe we were put on this earth to take care of them, both the wild and the domestic. I have an affectionate cat who sleeps with me and a cute bunny to entertain me by wiggling his little white nose. :o)
Music is also a passion of mine, especially live music, and I have had the same favorite band, Blue Rodeo, since grade six. I remember when I was young, we were constantly singing in the car. Our parents, especially our dad, taught us so many Hungarian folk songs, and when we came to Canada we would sing along with Bryan Adams on the radio, even though we didn't understand a word of the lyrics. I wish I could make music but I can't even sing well. The only thing musical about me are my ears.
Another thing that I have always loved is writing, hence the blog. :o) It goes hand-in-hand with reading and I do a lot of that. I always have. I remember lying on my bed in grade one, before we came to Canada, reading Little House in the Big Woods in Hungarian. A chapter book in grade one! Later, when I FINALLY got my own room in grade six, I would pick a book and read 'till all hours of the night, and complain if someone woke me up before noon. Actually, I think I did that even before I got my own room, when I shared with my sister. I remember we had a bunk bed... but now I am getting sidetracked!
Last night I must have read until eleven or so, but at that point I could hardly keep my eyes open, so I called it a day. With three children, I can't afford to stay up all night reading because I do have to be functional in the morning to get everyone out the door in time. But I do read, in moderate amounts, and I enjoy it immensely. I am surprised (and disappointed, to tell the truth) that my daughter says she doesn't like reading. She does read, though. She takes so many books out of the library, but she says it is the subjects that interest her, not the reading. She is into very strange subjects too, like 9/11 and the Titanic. She also reads a lot about Islam, go figure.
I do try to read in front of my children, to be a good model. Unfortunately, that often backfires because it is perceived as being selfish and ignoring the children. That saddens me. I do so look forward to the day when we can all sit on a dock by a quiet lake and read together. We'll see... In the meantime, my boys do appreciate it when I read to them at bedtime, so that's something.
But this post isn't about parenting skills. It is about having something to be passionate about. Something to inspire you, something to pursue. I truly believe that for a person to be happy, they have to have things that interest them. So think about it. What are you passionate about?
Monday, 5 March 2012
Juggling is Much Easier If the Balls Bounce Themselves
I am a juggler in the figurative sense. I have three kids. I try to juggle my time so that they each get what they need from me. Being a single mom, I won't pretend that I am good at it, or that all three of my children are super well balanced. It does seem that whenever there is an issue with one of them, just as I think I have things under control, something happens with a sibling and of course I don't want any of them to fall on the floor so I find myself scrambling again. Tonight was an exception.
This week is March Break for the kids. The boys both begged me over a month ago to sign them up for a certain day camp, which I was only happy to do because it coincidentally was one of the cheaper ones at only ten dollars a day. They were really looking forward to going and I am happy to report that they had a great day. I stayed at home with my eleven-year-old daughter so we could have some time alone without the boys demanding my attention. (Usually the demand comes in the form of a fight between them and I end up wondering if I should just let them go at it and settle things once and for all, but of course good judgement prevails and I have to separate them and then we talk about it. Hopefully. Sometimes the boys refuse to talk, and especially to hear, so the discussion is better left for later.) Back to today: we had a pretty simple day that just flew by. We went to the library, did groceries, made meatballs... I think our major achievement was cleaning Daughter's desk out. There were workbooks in there from grade two!
At four o'clock we went to get the boys from daycamp. My second son, who is six, has a history of not adjusting too well to changes, so I was especially interested in how his day went and how he felt. Luckily, he is bigger now (older and wiser than last summer and especially the summer before, when he was sent home for fighting) and he had a great day. I did give him a lot of attention, though, just to be 100% sure nothing bad happened, like someone wouldn't leave him alone and he hit them or something. (It has been known to happen...) Daughter was okay with me asking Second Son about his day and when we got home she disappeared to her room for a little alone time... with her computer... that's a whole other can of worms...
So we had a nice evening. Daughter went upstairs, I took Second Son outside to play. First Son was forbidden to come because he refused to put snow-pants on. Supper went pretty well. We were all at the table which is a definite victory. Then we played some Rush Hour with the boys and they showered and went to bed.
So I was in bed reading before going to sleep and who should be standing beside my bed but Second Son, saying he can't sleep and asking if he can sit with me a while and tell me about his day. He was very smooth in expressing this, by the way. I was thoroughly impressed. So of course I said yes and he proceeded to sit on my bed cross-legged and tell me about his day. Every detail of his day, with especial attention being paid to how the soccer ball bounced when he kicked it so that it somehow finally found its way into the goal and how everyone wanted him on his team because he is the best. :D I permit myself a small chuckle here because of course I had to keep a straight face and look impressed during this. First Son has VERY GOOD self-esteem. :o)
So the lesson I learned today, and this time it thankfully wasn't a painful one, (and I can't believe it took me six paragraphs to get to this point!) is that just when you lean back and think everything is just peachy and you deserve a little something, THAT is when you should first take a moment and think WHY everything seems peachy and THEN make sure that the jam is spread evenly among however many children you may have. 'Cause I thought I had a pretty good day with Daughter and I was relieved that Second Son seemed to settle well into daycamp for the week, but poor (patient!) First Son waited and waited for me to ask him about his day and when he realized I was showing off juggling with only two balls, he took the initiative and quickly threw himself into the routine before I left the stage. So remember, parents: Vigilance! Constant vigilance! (Watch yourselves!)
This week is March Break for the kids. The boys both begged me over a month ago to sign them up for a certain day camp, which I was only happy to do because it coincidentally was one of the cheaper ones at only ten dollars a day. They were really looking forward to going and I am happy to report that they had a great day. I stayed at home with my eleven-year-old daughter so we could have some time alone without the boys demanding my attention. (Usually the demand comes in the form of a fight between them and I end up wondering if I should just let them go at it and settle things once and for all, but of course good judgement prevails and I have to separate them and then we talk about it. Hopefully. Sometimes the boys refuse to talk, and especially to hear, so the discussion is better left for later.) Back to today: we had a pretty simple day that just flew by. We went to the library, did groceries, made meatballs... I think our major achievement was cleaning Daughter's desk out. There were workbooks in there from grade two!
At four o'clock we went to get the boys from daycamp. My second son, who is six, has a history of not adjusting too well to changes, so I was especially interested in how his day went and how he felt. Luckily, he is bigger now (older and wiser than last summer and especially the summer before, when he was sent home for fighting) and he had a great day. I did give him a lot of attention, though, just to be 100% sure nothing bad happened, like someone wouldn't leave him alone and he hit them or something. (It has been known to happen...) Daughter was okay with me asking Second Son about his day and when we got home she disappeared to her room for a little alone time... with her computer... that's a whole other can of worms...
So we had a nice evening. Daughter went upstairs, I took Second Son outside to play. First Son was forbidden to come because he refused to put snow-pants on. Supper went pretty well. We were all at the table which is a definite victory. Then we played some Rush Hour with the boys and they showered and went to bed.
So I was in bed reading before going to sleep and who should be standing beside my bed but Second Son, saying he can't sleep and asking if he can sit with me a while and tell me about his day. He was very smooth in expressing this, by the way. I was thoroughly impressed. So of course I said yes and he proceeded to sit on my bed cross-legged and tell me about his day. Every detail of his day, with especial attention being paid to how the soccer ball bounced when he kicked it so that it somehow finally found its way into the goal and how everyone wanted him on his team because he is the best. :D I permit myself a small chuckle here because of course I had to keep a straight face and look impressed during this. First Son has VERY GOOD self-esteem. :o)
So the lesson I learned today, and this time it thankfully wasn't a painful one, (and I can't believe it took me six paragraphs to get to this point!) is that just when you lean back and think everything is just peachy and you deserve a little something, THAT is when you should first take a moment and think WHY everything seems peachy and THEN make sure that the jam is spread evenly among however many children you may have. 'Cause I thought I had a pretty good day with Daughter and I was relieved that Second Son seemed to settle well into daycamp for the week, but poor (patient!) First Son waited and waited for me to ask him about his day and when he realized I was showing off juggling with only two balls, he took the initiative and quickly threw himself into the routine before I left the stage. So remember, parents: Vigilance! Constant vigilance! (Watch yourselves!)
Friday, 2 March 2012
Am I Crazy or Was That Fun?
In an effort to get myself out of debt and my tush off the couch, I have decided to try to get into even deeper debt. (This may be one of those confusing Willy Wonka "backwards is forwards" moments for you, Mrs. Gloop!) I applied to go to university. I want to become a translator. As a step towards fulfilling that dream, I wrote an entrance exam today at the Université du Québec en Outaouais.
It was so much fun! I know: I'm nuts, but I found writing a minimum 250-word opinion and translating a 300-word text from English to French to be a blast! Granted, I was pretty relaxed about it. The UQO diploma takes three years, whereas the one at the University of Ottawa only takes two. Given the choice, I would much rather do my Bachelor at U of O so this test didn't really phase me. It actually made me look forward to the next one, which will be on March 24th. (That's a Saturday. I must remember to confirm with my sitter.)
It was a big decision to go back to school and right now it is still pretty daunting. I have so much debt already, but I have faith that with a diploma in translation I can get a good job that pays well and that I like. That last bit is very important, since I have lost interest in what I have been doing, which is working in the French as a Second Language trade of teaching federal public servants French. As much as I loved all our students - I really did meet some amazingly intelligent and nice people - the conditions suck.
Ten years ago, I earned 21 dollars an hour teaching a group of about six students. Today, there are schools hiring experienced teachers for fifteen. It's really an insult, but the schools can do it because they know full well that the market is saturated. There are more teachers than students to teach.
I'm not the only one who wants to get out. I would need extra fingers and toes to count the number of my teachers who have asked me for reference letters. (I have climbed the ranks to Teaching Advisor.) I don't blame them. Pretty nearly everyone working in a private school in the Ottawa area wants to get into the government. Most of my teachers are paid hourly through contracts, meaning they have to put money aside for taxes at the end of the year and, most importantly, meaning that they have no benefits. No sick days, no Employment Insurance if they lose their position. A lucky few have landed dream jobs as French as a Second Language teachers directly for federal governmental departments. They have become casual and in some cases term public employees. But all that is about to end. The government announced that all the teaching positions are getting the ax as part of its cuts as of March 31st. Which means more teachers looking for jobs in private schools. Good for the schools. Bad for the teachers.
Another reason I wanted to change fields is because I really didn't like my job any more. It got really tedious fighting with upper management for teachers' rights, fighting with teachers for them to respect deadlines and protocols and for students' rights (like the right to have a teacher IN the classroom instead of on their way to work at the time class is scheduled to start.) Then there is "fighting" with students. (I put that in quotes because they aren't "students", but "clients" and I have to keep them "happy.") I "fought" with students who did't show up on time, disrupting class when they arrived and noisily got settled 30 minutes late every day. I "fought" with students who didn't want or need to be bilingual and who made no effort whatsoever to learn French, because their boss was going to reclassify their position as unilingual English if they didn't get their B's. Etc. Etc.
I have discovered through volunteering that I LIKE translating and I think that is the key factor in my future success. I have friends and acquaintances who are translators both in the public and private sectors and they all tell me the same thing: conditions are good. So I have decided I will do what I like and be recognized (i.e. receive a fair salary) for it. I know you can't get anywhere unless you know where you want to go. Where I want to go is a place where I have financial security and I can give my children the things they need and deserve. Starting with hot meals every night.
I'm looking forward to getting the results. In the meantime, I am looking forward to my weekend. You all have a good one! :o)
It was so much fun! I know: I'm nuts, but I found writing a minimum 250-word opinion and translating a 300-word text from English to French to be a blast! Granted, I was pretty relaxed about it. The UQO diploma takes three years, whereas the one at the University of Ottawa only takes two. Given the choice, I would much rather do my Bachelor at U of O so this test didn't really phase me. It actually made me look forward to the next one, which will be on March 24th. (That's a Saturday. I must remember to confirm with my sitter.)
It was a big decision to go back to school and right now it is still pretty daunting. I have so much debt already, but I have faith that with a diploma in translation I can get a good job that pays well and that I like. That last bit is very important, since I have lost interest in what I have been doing, which is working in the French as a Second Language trade of teaching federal public servants French. As much as I loved all our students - I really did meet some amazingly intelligent and nice people - the conditions suck.
Ten years ago, I earned 21 dollars an hour teaching a group of about six students. Today, there are schools hiring experienced teachers for fifteen. It's really an insult, but the schools can do it because they know full well that the market is saturated. There are more teachers than students to teach.
I'm not the only one who wants to get out. I would need extra fingers and toes to count the number of my teachers who have asked me for reference letters. (I have climbed the ranks to Teaching Advisor.) I don't blame them. Pretty nearly everyone working in a private school in the Ottawa area wants to get into the government. Most of my teachers are paid hourly through contracts, meaning they have to put money aside for taxes at the end of the year and, most importantly, meaning that they have no benefits. No sick days, no Employment Insurance if they lose their position. A lucky few have landed dream jobs as French as a Second Language teachers directly for federal governmental departments. They have become casual and in some cases term public employees. But all that is about to end. The government announced that all the teaching positions are getting the ax as part of its cuts as of March 31st. Which means more teachers looking for jobs in private schools. Good for the schools. Bad for the teachers.
Another reason I wanted to change fields is because I really didn't like my job any more. It got really tedious fighting with upper management for teachers' rights, fighting with teachers for them to respect deadlines and protocols and for students' rights (like the right to have a teacher IN the classroom instead of on their way to work at the time class is scheduled to start.) Then there is "fighting" with students. (I put that in quotes because they aren't "students", but "clients" and I have to keep them "happy.") I "fought" with students who did't show up on time, disrupting class when they arrived and noisily got settled 30 minutes late every day. I "fought" with students who didn't want or need to be bilingual and who made no effort whatsoever to learn French, because their boss was going to reclassify their position as unilingual English if they didn't get their B's. Etc. Etc.
I have discovered through volunteering that I LIKE translating and I think that is the key factor in my future success. I have friends and acquaintances who are translators both in the public and private sectors and they all tell me the same thing: conditions are good. So I have decided I will do what I like and be recognized (i.e. receive a fair salary) for it. I know you can't get anywhere unless you know where you want to go. Where I want to go is a place where I have financial security and I can give my children the things they need and deserve. Starting with hot meals every night.
I'm looking forward to getting the results. In the meantime, I am looking forward to my weekend. You all have a good one! :o)
Thursday, 1 March 2012
Sarcasm (a.k.a. I Am an Imperfect Being)
Yesterday while driving around doing errands, I was pretty excited about this blog. It occurred to me that it could be a good platform to do some good in the world. I consider myself a generous person, and lately I have been frustrated not to be able to help in certain circumstances, as I have no money, no time, no energy. Rosy little post this is turning out to be... So, getting back on track: today I want to share an eye-opening experience that has hopefully made me a better person and parent. Perhaps someone else could also profit from my mistakes.
First Son, my eight year-old, has been having trouble at school. He has brought home two reprimands in the last two weeks. Not good. This past Monday, the note said that he didn't listen and that he talked back. As we talked about what happened, he explained: they were in line and the gym teacher's rule is no talking. First Son's friend in front of him, J., was talking to him, and he apparently asked him not to do so. (I am taking First Son's word on this. I could see it being the case.) So, as he is asking J. not to talk to him, the gym teacher reminds him, "Hey, no talking," to which First Son replies, "I know." As he is relating this to me, the "I know" comes out quite sarcastically, accompanied by a rolling of the eyes. Mystery solved. Not as in, that's why he got the reprimand, but as in, "Ooops! This is the kind of model I am!"
I will be the first to admit that I have been feeling very tense lately and I have a very short fuse. Add to that three kids who, at the end of the day, are unable to get up from the supper table to get their own milk, and sarcasm rears its ugly head. This is exactly what happened with First Son. At supper last week, I heard the words, "Mom, milk." I didn't reply as I was extremely insulted by the request and the way in which it was made. Not getting the message, First son repeated his request, and when he still got no reaction, he said, "Mom, I would like some milk," to which I replied, "Really? Me too." *insert rolleyes here* I then calmly explained to him that I was not a dog who was going to fetch him things, and that I was as tired as he was, could he please get his own milk, or at least ask nicely? But the damage was done.
When First Son was telling me about why he got the reprimand, I could see myself mirrored in the way he was talking. So I pulled out my humility card and apologized to him for being so sarcastic with him lately, and we had a talk about how he had spoken to his gym teacher. Having gotten some things clear, I still would not let him off the hook for the consequence to his actions at school. Even though I feel partly responsible, ultimately First Son must understand that he should be respectful to someone when talking to them. So he did get punished. Nobody said life was fair.
The moral of this story is that we really do have to watch how we act with and around our children. I think I have cleared things up with First Son, but I still wonder how deeply this sarcasm is embedded in his personality now. And can I keep to my promise not to be so cross and sarcastic? I really hope so! I mean, nothing has changed in my situation and I am as tired and grumpy as ever, but now that I am (painfully) aware of the consequences of my own behavior, hopefully I can keep an eye on myself. We'll see...
First Son, my eight year-old, has been having trouble at school. He has brought home two reprimands in the last two weeks. Not good. This past Monday, the note said that he didn't listen and that he talked back. As we talked about what happened, he explained: they were in line and the gym teacher's rule is no talking. First Son's friend in front of him, J., was talking to him, and he apparently asked him not to do so. (I am taking First Son's word on this. I could see it being the case.) So, as he is asking J. not to talk to him, the gym teacher reminds him, "Hey, no talking," to which First Son replies, "I know." As he is relating this to me, the "I know" comes out quite sarcastically, accompanied by a rolling of the eyes. Mystery solved. Not as in, that's why he got the reprimand, but as in, "Ooops! This is the kind of model I am!"
I will be the first to admit that I have been feeling very tense lately and I have a very short fuse. Add to that three kids who, at the end of the day, are unable to get up from the supper table to get their own milk, and sarcasm rears its ugly head. This is exactly what happened with First Son. At supper last week, I heard the words, "Mom, milk." I didn't reply as I was extremely insulted by the request and the way in which it was made. Not getting the message, First son repeated his request, and when he still got no reaction, he said, "Mom, I would like some milk," to which I replied, "Really? Me too." *insert rolleyes here* I then calmly explained to him that I was not a dog who was going to fetch him things, and that I was as tired as he was, could he please get his own milk, or at least ask nicely? But the damage was done.
When First Son was telling me about why he got the reprimand, I could see myself mirrored in the way he was talking. So I pulled out my humility card and apologized to him for being so sarcastic with him lately, and we had a talk about how he had spoken to his gym teacher. Having gotten some things clear, I still would not let him off the hook for the consequence to his actions at school. Even though I feel partly responsible, ultimately First Son must understand that he should be respectful to someone when talking to them. So he did get punished. Nobody said life was fair.
The moral of this story is that we really do have to watch how we act with and around our children. I think I have cleared things up with First Son, but I still wonder how deeply this sarcasm is embedded in his personality now. And can I keep to my promise not to be so cross and sarcastic? I really hope so! I mean, nothing has changed in my situation and I am as tired and grumpy as ever, but now that I am (painfully) aware of the consequences of my own behavior, hopefully I can keep an eye on myself. We'll see...
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